Immortal
by Snowfire the Kitsune
Summary: Truthfully, all those times Harry ‘supposedly’ died, he only nearly died. His luck had held up until his twentythird birthday, but that’s when the other shoe came crashing down…


Now, Harry Potter is known to the wizarding world as the 'Boy-who-lived' and to some as the 'Boy who wouldn't die.' If you take the last saying one step further, what do you have? An immortal.

Truthfully, all those times Harry 'supposedly' died, he only nearly died. His luck had held up until his twenty-third birthday, but that's when the other shoe came crashing down…

"To all of our viewers out there, a special bulletin! A man by the name of Kell has broken out of prison in France and has been sighted in our viewing area! Everyone is warned to stay indoors and…"

"Get out there and do the yard work, freak!" Aunt Petunia howled at her nephew.

Harry sighed, "Why does Fudge insist that I'm safer here, than someplace of my own? I'm old enough to make my own decisions… move away forever… but he just doesn't see that! He still sees me as a weapon! His own personal lap-dog! Ha! As if that pompous old fart could call me his loyal dog!" Harry chuckled to himself as he pictured himself in Sirius' animagus form… biting and snarling at the head of the Ministry of Magic.

A man ran down the road and stabbed Harry in the heart, "I'll see you when you wake up, boy."

Harry's vision took in the sight of the man before he fell, dead.

About two hours later, Harry awoke to the man that had stabbed him standing over him, "Well, look who's up! Guess I'll be taking your head…"

"Not this time Kell!" a man with a thick Scottish accent jumped from the shadows.

"Now, if it isn't my old friend, Duncan McLeod. You just stay out of this, McLeod. I need this one. I haven't had a quickening in years thanks to you," Kell growled in a slightly psychotic manner.

"Then fight me and we shall see what this lad's fate is to be," Duncan replied in his deep voice.

"Deal, I win, I take his head, you lose I take his head," Kell laughed manically.

"Lad, I know you're not up to par, but whatever you do, do not interrupt this duel," Duncan told Harry.

"Wha?"

"I will explain everything later, I promise," Duncan stared the boy in the eyes for a second before jumping away from Kell's sword. Dodging, parrying, thrusting, and ducking, eventually Duncan backed Kell into a corner, did a fancy move with his wrist to force his opponent to release his sword, and he took Kell's head.

Lightning came and struck Duncan right in the chest, Harry's eyes were wide. This was definitely no magic that he was used to, "Why?"

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Duncan screamed before his body slumped over his sword as the lightning had ceased.

"…" Harry could only stare in surprise, but a shrill call from a red bird was heard. "Faux?" Harry questioned the bird that hovered over him with a sword in talon. The Phoenix flew down and dropped the sword into Harry's hands. "Why? Why did you give me Gryffindor's sword, old friend?" Faux lifted his head in a great cry of sorrow and disappeared as the sun's rays grazed his wings.

"Lad, are you alight?" Duncan stood shakily, using his sword as support.

"Why? Why do I cause so many deaths? WHY?!!" Harry gripped the sword of Gryffindor tightly in his hands, cutting them on the blade. "The blood of so many people stains my hands… why another one? WHY?!" Harry roared as he turned to face Duncan, tears nearing his angry eyes.

"Lad, I don't know. I would train you, if you would like. There will be others that will come after you, now that you are immortal."

"Immortal. Immortal? IMMORTAL!" Harry was nearing hysteria, "After all this time when all I wanted was to die, I succeed where the villain fails. What irony."

"Lad?"

"Look, I don't think I'm safe here anymore… I'm not sure I won't just be taking you to your death by leaving with you. That's all I seem to bring my friends and acquaintances. I wouldn't want to burden you or…" Harry let a silvery tear fall onto Gryffindor's… no, HIS sword.

"Lad, I'm Duncan McLeod, of the clan McLeod. I was born in the highlands of Scotland in 1592, and I am immortal. There is only one way to kill an immortal, and that is to take their head."

"Harry James Potter, also know as the 'unlucky-boy-who-lived-and-led-all-his-friends-to-death', so-called puppet of a secret society minister, and all around whipping boy of my last blood relatives."

"Well, what do you say to coming with me, Mr. Potter?"

"What the hell have I got to lose? Everyone I loved is now dead."

"How about we leave before the constables arrive?" Duncan stared seriously at the young man before him.

"Fine with me," Harry stood and met Duncan's eyes, his eyes cold with the harshness of reality, but still there was a shred of hope left in them…

The Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, sat in his desk, reflecting on how he had lost his secret weapon, in the wizarding world, seven years ago… when two people entered his office.

"Hello Fudge."

"Who are you? How did you get in here?!" Fudge freaked out like a little whiner-baby.

"Don't you remember me? I'm the Wizarding World's biggest screw-over, Harry bloody James freakin Potter," the dark figure with a sword strapped to his back sneered at the minister.

"But… you can't be! You look the same as you did seven years ago!"

"You see, Fudge, I no longer go by Harry Potter, but as Lad Phoenix Scott, in honor of my mentor behind me," Harry laughed as the minister slowly freaked even more by the mention of Harry's rich alias, for Lad Scott was a well renowned painter and businessman in the muggle world, even the Queen had asked him to do her portrait, but he had politely refused and given her another one instead. Lad Scott was high class, artsy, a friend to the crown, and apparently, Harry Potter in disguise.

Fudge fainted, causing Duncan to laugh, "Now that is not something that I anticipated!"

"The man is a total wimp, D.M.," Harry/Lad rolled his eyes at his mentor. "Besides, I think it's time I finally just get rid of Voldemort, take care of Fudge, and then vanish. What do you think?"

"The idea has merit, my young apprentice," Duncan smirked humorously.

"I should never have made you watch Star Wars," Harry/Lad groaned.

"Awe, but Lad!" Duncan pouted.

"Don't 'awe Lad' me, McLeod!" Harry/Lad placed his arms across his chest. "Now, can we finally get started?" Harry/Lad smirked.

"But of course, my young… Ouch!" Duncan rubbed his head, because Harry/Lad had smacked him there the minute he started again. "Fine, brat."

"Marauder," Harry/Lad grinned in reply.

"What is it with you and that word?" Duncan frowned.

"My dad was one; well… he was in a prankster group called the Marauders. Moony, Padfoot, Prongs, and… _Wormtail_!" Harry/Lad hissed the last name before darting his hand out and snatching the silver-pawed rat out from under the table. "Well, aren't you just a fine and grand sight for sore hearts, you traitor."

"H-Harry… I-I-I-I c-c-c-can ex-x-x-xplain!" Peter Pettigrew/Wormtail, the coward, had transformed back into a man and was whimpering at Harry/Lad's feet.

"It's time you paid the boon you owe me, rat." Harry glared down at the man, "I want you to tell me exactly why you betrayed my parents."

"I-I-I-I had t-t-to! I d-d-d-didn't w-w-w-want to… Th-they would have k-k-k-killed my sister," Peter squeaked.

"But you betrayed your best friends, without asking for their help and you betrayed Sirius."

"Y-yes, I had to, t-t-to s-s-save Olivia."

"And where is Olivia now, Pettigrew?" Harry snarled.

"D-d-dead. H-he killed her, the y-y-year after I b-b-b-betrayed your parents and Sirius, f-f-framing him for those m-m-m-m-murders."

"Last question Wormtail, where is your master?"

"I-I-In Godric's H-H-H-Hollow…" Peter squeaked before Harry ran his sword through him, but not before making sure he had taped the confession.

* * *

Let me know what you think! I'm curious as I haven't posted anything in a while.

Sending Mischief Your Way!

Snowfire the Kitsune


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